Adventures of A First Year
by Mischief Managed33
Summary: Emma is a young muggleborn witch, whom soon acquires friendship in Albus. With friendship, though, comes trouble. Does not follow most events in The Cursed Child
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello! This story, Adventures of A First Year, is written by not only one person, but two! I am here partnering up with Alp Glide to make an amazing story! Every chapter is going to alternate between writers, and we hope this story will satisfy your need of great adventure!**

 _Writer: Alp Glide_

On a regular, ordinary day, no one would expect anything to happen. Perhaps they're right. Life becomes boring with no adventures or risks every once in awhile, and the same exact things could be said to Emma Belin.

When it is particularly sunny outside, you could expect her to play outside with her friends, like any other girl. Likewise, when it's rainy outside, you could also expect her to be complaining about how she can't go to the playground and try out the monkey bars. But no, you would actually find her doing none of those things. Where would she be then, you ask? She'd be in the last place you'd expect to find her; that's right.

Her room.

The first thing you would see when you walk in through the door is paper, taped on the walls, everywhere! Most of the walls would be unseeable, covered in amazing sights of nature, of a girl's dreams, of...anything you could imagine, possibly. Then you would soon find that it's all drawn by an eleven-year-old girl, sitting at her desk all day, staying in her room, holding a pencil and sketching madly; yet, all of the pictures are beautiful. Emma, as usual, expects nothing to happen on a horribly rainy day like this. Nobody would go outside, it's practically like having pails and pails of water dumped on you repeatedly. The lamp on her desk looks unusually bright, compared to the greyish sky outside.

Sighing, Emma set her pencil down and took a good look at her finished drawing. It seems to be just a bunch of messy lines at first glance,but if looked at closely, it's actually a castle: A setting in one of her dreams. Satisfied, Emma took a piece of tape and stuck the picture on an empty space on the wall (which she took three minutes to do, considering that she had to move all the other pictures to make space for the new one). Having no interest in drawing another picture for the day, she settled on her twin sized bed and glanced around at her drawings. Yes, the one she drew today seemed to be her best illustration so far...

But as she got to a particular picture, she stopped skimming other pictures abruptly and decided stare at it. It was a picture of Emma's dad, the way she last remembered him. Her mom had told her that her father was in the military but soon died in training. They were using real bombs as battle simulations, and her dad was unfortunate, having accidentally been caught in the explosion. He had dark brown hair, just like her, and bright, clear, hazel brown eyes. Just like her. She didn't inherit much from her mother other than the artistic talent she had. The last time Emma saw her father was when she was...five? Seven? Her memories aren't clear on that specific subject.

However, one thing she did remember was her father's name: Sebastian Belin.

His first name was so common, it hurts whenever someone calls for one of her classmates (also named Sebastian) on the other side of the playground at school, or simply squeaking his name because he just came back from Disneyland and his friends had missed him. It would always remind Emma of her father.

Which is one reason she hated going to school.

Nevertheless, she also loved school in some ways. Emma loves the different subjects like English and Math, the knowledge that she learns, and likes sharing it with other people...except for those mean classmates who would always make fun of her so-called "nerdiness".

Pulling herself away from her thoughts, she looked around her room again. It was decent-sized, with a walk-in closet and some colored pencils randomly spread out all over the floor. Her bed was in a corner and the desk she would draw on was at the other. Emma's starting to become bored. There's nothing to do on a cloudy rainy day like this, but she wants to do something. Anything.

She decided some moments later that some food would be nice, so she skips downstairs for a nice chocolate flavored muffin. Emma opens the door to the pantry, grabbing one large muffin, and runs up the stairs that led back to her room.

When she opened the door, she stopped in her tracks immediately. A short, two feet tall - person? - was on her bed. He had glasses on, a stick of some sort in one hand, and some sort of crest on his robes that had a bronze eagle on it with a light blue background.

Why was this goblin-like creature thing in her room?

 **A/N: Please leave us some of those wonderful reviews, and let us know what you think. The next chapter will be written by me, Mischief Managed33**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for the review! We really do appreciate it!**

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 _Writer: Mischief Managed33_

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"Hello, I'm Professor Filius Flitwick, but you can call me Professor Flitwick. You must be Emma Belin, yes?"

Emma looked uncertainly at the strange man. She couldn't decide between calling for her mom, or talking to the strange person who called himself a professor.

Professor Flitwick seemed to notice the hesitation in her stance. "Your mother already knows I'm here. She's the one who let me in after all," he commented, correctly guessing the reason of doubt.

Emma still looked slightly worried, but she couldn't resist talking to him. He dressed entirely out of date, and he was obviously not a professor from a normal school.

"Yes," Emma nodded, "I am Emma Belin. Since you're a professor, I imagine you came here to talk about school?" she deduced. She had always prided herself on her powers of deduction. Being an artist, you always had to pay attention to details.

The professor smiled, "An observation worthy of a Ravenclaw. Perhaps you will be a new addition to my house." he said, now officially showing interest in Emma. Seeing Emma's look of confusion, he took the chance to introduce her to the wizarding world.

Flitwick repositioned himself on the bed and began. "Emma, the school I have come to talk to you about, is named Hogwarts." Filius made a point to see how she reacted to the name. To his surprise, she didn't show any sign that the name was humorous. "It is a school for... gifted people, like you."

"Like me? Emma asked, genuinely confused. "Do you mean my sketches? Hardly anyone knows about them." she said quietly, looking around the smothered walls.

"No, Emma not your sketches, though those are quite incredible. Let me ask you, whenever you were feeling a particularly strong emotion, did anything strange happen?"

Emma frowned, now that she thought about it, strange things did seem to always happen around her. That was one of the reasons she didn't have any friends, everyone thought she was a freak. "Yes, now that you mention it, that does happen quite frequently."

"And, those incidences when they happen, can you explain how they occur?" Emma shook her head no. "That, Emma, is your gift. And, we like to call it magic."


	3. Chapter 3

_Written by:_ Alp Glide

"Magic?" Emma stammered.

"Yes, magic." Flitwick repeated plainly.

"Magic..." Emma whispered to herself, looking down at her hands (barely registering the fact that she's still standing up). She never would've thought anything like this was possible. Though she never would really believe it, there certainly was some evidence involving her magic, like the time when she accidentally sent a snake to attack a bully at school. She never meant any of it, of course - the bully didn't get injured, and the snake disappeared before other students and teachers could even glance at it.

Somehow, she felt connected to the snake. When she's feeling particularly alone, she'd find the snake slithering towards her, talking to her - it was frustrating to not know what the snake was talking about - it kept hissing softly, and Emma has tried to unravel the magic language inside. Every single time, she failed. And it was the one thing she failed at for a long time. Even now, she can't figure out what the snake had whispered to her those mysterious two years ago.

There was also a time when she was stuck on making a sketch of a tree in a park, next to a lake. She was crying, it was the only time she'd ever failed at sketching something. Emma had looked up - and there was the large piece of paper, painting itself with amazing colors of nature. It's the exact thing she wanted to sketch with a pencil (the painting would be black and white), but the color had made it better. That was the happiest day she had ever-

"So..." Flitwick interrupted, "Am I going to have to stare at your amazed face about magic, or can we get started on getting your school supplies?" Flitwick had never pushed any students into doing something, nor had he ever rudely interrupted, but it had been seven long minutes ever since Emma last spoke. They simply couldn't waste any more time; he had to get to all of the other Muggleborn students as well.

"Oh, yes...um, yeah, I think I'm ready." Emma fiddled with her shirt, embarrassed. Flitwick took a long scroll from his pocket and started to explain.

"As I said before, Ms Belin, you have been accepted to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A school of magic." he stopped for a moment and glanced at Emma, who was staring at the back of the parchment intensely. "I'm sure your artwork will come in handy sometimes, especially because there's an elective called 'Magical Arts' that you could take in your later years; it's something you could look forward to."

"How many electives are there?" Emma asked; she took more interest in Flitwick's blabbedy-blab when he mentioned her talent of art. Flitwick seemed to have most of this memorized by heart. "Let's see...first years have no electives, but they have seven compulsory core subjects: There's Charms, Astronomy, History of Magic, Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"First years? How many years are there?"

"Seven."

"Are there any more subjects in advanced years?"

"We'll cross the bridge when we get to it," Flitwick answered grudgingly; they were behind schedule by a large chunk of time. "Now, ready to go to Diagon Alley?"

"Diagonally?" Emma asked. "What? Isn't a diagonal line a line that's slanted, tilted at a 45-degree angle with -"

"Oh, Merlin's beard, Emma!" Flitwick snapped, almost ripping the piece of parchment in his tiny hands. "Are we going or not? Oh, forget it! I'll just take you to the place. I have many other Muggleborns to visit, you know, I've never met a person like you before."

Emma stared at Professor Flitwick. Even he was getting impatient. She was always dissatisfied when she didn't understand everything, and would keep asking questions until she understood everything. Her teachers at school would drop her grades for it, and Flitwick even thought that she was different.

"Alright." she answered. "Go ahead. Show me the place."

Flitwick seemed surprised by the sudden controlled emotional change in Emma. Seems like a suspicious Slytherin trait...

"Let me explain some things again," Flitwick cleared his throat. "Emma Belin, you are on the school list of Muggleborns. Muggleborns are witches and wizards who have no trace of magical heritage. In other words, they are people who have magic in their blood, but their parents have no trace of magic at all. They are just Muggles; folks who have non-magic blood. It's quite random, and even us Wizards are still mystified by it. Now, I'm here to take you to Diagon Alley..." he made sure to pronounce Diagon Alley very clearly to make sure Emma wouldn't question him again, "To buy your school supplies. Here is your letter."

Emma unconsciously held out her hands, and new, crisp parchment found themselves in the grasp of a talented girl. Her heart felt light. This must be a dream, it must, but magic just explained everything. Every single thing she's done wrong, magic was the evidence. It must be a dream, but it can't...

It felt too real. WAY too real.

Her dream had come true. She always knew she was different, she knew all this time...but what if this was a prank? What if there was a stranger; a murderer inside that masked face of kindness?

"Be brave like my mother, Professor..."

She closed her eyes and smiled. Harry Potter. Emma had had many dreams of a mysterious person named Harry Potter. It was as if she'd known him all this time, he's always been there for her since she was seven. Harry would never be a real person. He would just be a nice, heroic person in her dreams, with a tragic past of Lily and James Potter. It never occurred to her to wonder why she had those dreams, until now. It was magic. Magic controlled her dreams, perhaps they were trying to send her a message.

"Be brave like my mother..."

She had to be brave, or her chance of being different would be flattened. Opening her eyes, Emma looked at the letter. In green, dark, handwritten ink, was her address:

Ms E. Belin  
The Bed in The Artistic Bedroom, Second Floor  
5\. Crystal Avenue  
Tiny Hofer  
Polfey

Hands shaking for the first time, Emma delicately opened the letter and pulled out more pieces of parchment - isn't there any paper in the Wizarding World? - that bore instructions, things to buy, how to get to Diagon Alley...and a train ticket. "Thank you," she whispered. It was a foolish thing to say thank you to a little goblin-like thing, a foolish thing to thank something that would've come naturally no matter what, but she had to say it.

"Ready?" Flitwick asked. Emma nodded in determination. "You know," Flitwick said indifferently, "You're very brave to accept this at first glance. Some other Muggleborns would fight, others wouldn't believe me, even others would think I'm a mad murderer. You've got a lion heart...you wouldn't be a bad Gryffindor either."

"What's Gryff-"

"Oh, I'll tell you everything once we get to DIAGON ALLEY!" Flitwick agitated, threw his arms up in the air. It was a little funny looking, and Emma had to hold in a laugh so she wouldn't be too rude.

"How are we getting there?"

"We walk, of course!" he said proudly. "Your house is conveniently right around the corner of this secret entrance! Perhaps it's very lucky you live in London!" He hopped off of the bed, leaving a little print in the blue blankets (stowing the long piece of parchment full of Muggleborn names in his pocket), and walked to the door. "After you!" he said joyfully.

Emma skipped the way to the so-called Leaky Cauldron.

"So..." Emma said slowly. She didn't want to suddenly crash questions onto a little two-foot tall goblin thing, but she couldn't help herself. "What's Gryffindor? What do those colors and that eagle on your robes represent? And don't you think other peop- Muggles - would see something out of place if something magical was next to the street?"

"That..." Flitwick wheezed. "Is a HUGE amount of questions for a little eleven-year-old. Could you be any more curious with any more questions?"

Clearly, he was annoyed.

"Umm," Emma said, "Actually, I'm holding a lot of my curiosities back, I don't think I'm asking too many -"

"MERLIN'S PANTS, MS BELIN!" Flitwick threw his arms in the air again. "I've never met someone like you, certainly, I haven't! You're no Hufflepuff! I don't know the boundary of your loyalties yet, but HOLY -"

"Shush, people are going to notice." Emma whispered.

"Right."

It was an awkwardly silent and, fortunately, short walk the rest of the way.

They arrived a few minutes later at a dark blue shop with golden letters at the top of the doorway claiming it was the Leaky Cauldron. Muggles never seem to glance at it at all; they looked from one shop to the next, skipping the little 'Leaky Cauldron'.

"Why don't any other people notice this?" Emma asked.

"Only magical wizards and witches can see it," Flitwick replied simply. "They would see it as an abandoned, dark alley."

Emma took a better look at the place. She'd never seen a shop to ridiculously skinny before, but a look through the glass told her the shop was wider on the inside. How was this possible?

"Ah, Magic!" Flitwick sighed. "It's one of the best talents you could have! Off you go, my dear!"

Emma seemed hesitant. "Sorry for the uphold back in my house, but do you have any more time to go with me?"

"Yes, of course! Every Muggleborn is always afraid of seeing what's behind the wall..."

"A wall?"

"Yup! I'll show you!"

And with that, Flitwick bounded into the shop, Emma walking slowly behind.

A/N: Please keep reading! It should get to school soon.

 **Please Review!**


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